Chapter 3 - The Smile That Ruined Me

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Author's POV

Sometimes destruction begins not with a scream but with a smile, the kind that curves too easily on lips that have no intention of staying.

Lily Watson smiled at Ace Adams like he was something she could own, and the boy—who had spent his whole life being unseen—made the mistake of looking back.

He wasn't the type to chase light, but he stood still just long enough for her to burn him anyway.

She didn't have to try hard; all it took was one glance across the room and a few well-timed words and the boy who kept his heart in chains handed her the key.

And she didn't hesitate to use it.

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Lily's POV

He was quiet, annoyingly so—one of those boys who didn't flinch when you flirted, who didn't melt when you smiled, who just watched like he already knew how it would end.

But maybe that's why I chose him.

I liked things that didn't beg, things I could bend without breaking—until they did.

At first, I only asked for notes, homework, favors—but he gave them so quickly it made me wonder what else he'd give if I asked nicely.

So one day, I didn't ask.

I pulled him into a dark hallway after class, pushed him against the wall, and kissed him like I was hungry and he was nothing but air.

He didn't move for a second, like he didn't believe it was happening—then he kissed me back so slow, so careful, like I was something holy instead of cruel.

It disgusted me how gentle he was.

I bit his lip until it bled just to remind him this wasn't love, and he still didn't stop.

He looked at me like pain was permission, like I could do anything and he'd still come back.

So I kept pushing.

The next time, I climbed into his lap at the back of the library when no one was watching, tugged his shirt open just enough to see the way he swallowed down the sound of his own breathing.

He didn't touch me unless I told him to.

Didn't kiss me unless I let him.

It gave me power, and I liked that too much.

I whispered things in his ear I didn't mean.

Pulled his hair.

Ran my hands over the skin beneath his collar, just to see how long it took him to tremble.

He didn't ask what we were.

Didn't ask if I meant any of it.

Because he already knew the answer.

And he stayed anyway.

That's what made it fun.

That's what made it sick.

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Ace's POV

I wasn't supposed to feel anything.

Not when she kissed me the first time.

Not when she touched me like I was hers in all the places she'd never admit to caring about.

But I did.

And I hated myself for it.

She pushed me against that hallway wall like I was something to conquer, something to test—and I let her.

Her kiss wasn't gentle.

It was sharp, messy, cruel.

But I kissed her back like she mattered, because to me, she did.

She pulled away and smirked like I was pathetic.

I didn't say a word.

Because I knew silence hurt less than hearing her laugh at what I'd already given her.

She touched me again in the library.

Sat on me like I was a throne and she was some twisted kind of queen.

Her lips were heat and cruelty, her hands everywhere at once, and my body answered like it didn't care about dignity.

But my heart?

It broke a little more each time.

I never asked her to stop.

Because even if it wasn't love for her, it was the closest thing I'd ever felt.

She whispered my name like it was a weapon.

Sank her teeth into my skin just to mark me.

And I let her.

Because I'd already fallen.

And falling feels a lot like flying—until you hit the ground.